


If You Like It Then You Better Write Your Name On It

by ScooBiNatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Aftercare, BDSM, Bondage, Bottom!Lucifer, Collar, D/s, Discovery, F/M, Fuckbuddies, Knifeplay, M/M, Pain Kink, Pet Names, RACK - Freeform, SSC, Stephen King novels, blowjob, canonverse, circa season 12, crop, dom!Dean, good Dom Dean, grace hijinks, let’s be honest Sam probably already knew, lots of care, lucifer joins the bunker fam, lucifer likes reading, masochist Lucifer, prayer kink, secret boyfriends, sub!Lucifer, top!dean, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 13:33:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17808902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScooBiNatural/pseuds/ScooBiNatural
Summary: As if Dean and Lucifer don’t give Sam enough headaches on their own, they’ve decided to fuck around behind his back with each other.Only, it gets to be a little more serious than Dean’s usual fuckbuddies.Lucifer wants commitment but he’ll settle for the next best thing.





	If You Like It Then You Better Write Your Name On It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saviorfromhell (tumblr)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=saviorfromhell+%28tumblr%29).



> Cross-posted to tumblr.
> 
> Gift for @saviorfromhell on tumblr for making my ask account an awesome icon.

“Hey,” Sam knocks on Lucifer’s door frame, making the weakened archangel look up from his book. “I’m heading out, want me to get you anything?”

“Hi,” Lucifer greets him back. “You and Dean found a hunt?” The archangel asks while he thinks of something he might want. He sets his book open and pages-down on the nightstand.

The young hunter smiles to himself as he shakes his head. “Nah, Eileen asked me to help her with a case, I’m going to meet her.” He pauses, not even seeming to notice how happy he is. “She promised to pay me in snickerdoodles.”

Lucifer allows a small laugh to escape his throat. “Make sure you save a couple for me. And maybe bring me back more of these Stephen King books? I’m loving them.”

“Sure,” Sam continues to grin. “Text me a list of what you already have.”

“You got it, chief.”

As Sam leaves, Lucifer picks his book back up to continue reading. He doesn’t get very far however, seeing as he’s rather distracted with counting the minutes.

Any moment now…

 

 

His door shuts with a click, and Lucifer looks up to see Dean walking towards him. He feigns disinterest, giving a little wave before turning back to stare at a word on his page, unable to focus enough to actually read.

Dean plucks the book from his hands, yanking it away before Lucifer can snatch it back.

“Hey! I’m reading that!”

“And now you aren’t.”

Lucifer scowls at him, and Dean just returns his look with a cocky grin. “Oh, c’mon. Don’t look at me like that. It’s been  _ days _ .” Dean makes sure to at least dog-ear the page before he tosses the book over towards a pile of Lucifer’s clothes. “You can’t tell me you’re not restless too.”

Lucifer pulls himself up to sit with one leg bent and the other dangling off his bed, then crosses his arms at Dean. “Neither of us would be if you’d stop being a coward and just  _ tell _ Sam.”

Dean climbs onto the bed, annoyance crossing his features for just the briefest moment before he leans in to kiss Lucifer’s lips. He knows Lucifer is just being difficult because the archangel likes to test him, so he doesn’t rise to the bait.

Lucifer continues to play coy and tries to curve Dean, only for the hunter to grab his chin and hold him still while he gives the angel a long, deep kiss. Lucifer jerks his chin once before giving up on the act, and just melts against his human’s lips, unwinding his arms from each other and pulling Dean closer by the edges of his flannel.

The hunter hums with amusement as his archangel gives in to him, parting his lips at Dean’s asking lick, and moaning wantonly when the hunter attacks all the secret little sensitive spots with his tongue. He draws the kiss out until he’s sure Lucifer is nice and relaxed for him, then pulls away to press chaste kisses to his angel’s jawline.

“Missed you.”

“You always do,” the devil replies with only marginally less snark than before. He doesn’t elaborate, letting his implied meaning hang between them.

Dean sighs softly, leaning back to regard the stubbornly bratty angel. “Do you want me or not, Lucifer?”

“I’m not in the mood,” Lucifer lies, turning his head impishly.

Dean decides to play along for now, knowing Lucifer will regret it when Dean promises to back off.

“Well, in that case. There’s pie waiting for my attention.”

“I ate the last slice~”

“I hid it, like hell you did.”

“Oh, the same place you hide your  _ diary _ ? I read that too.”

“Funny, ‘cause I don’t own one.”

“ _ So Sam said I should keep a Diary,” _ Lucifer recites, “ _ It’s a stupid idea. Sam’s a bitch. Hey this actually does kinda feel good-” _

Laughter bubbles from Lucifer’s chest as Dean tackles him to the bed again,and they go down in a tangle of limbs and the giggles of full grown men.

It’s a while before they cease the wrestling match, both breathing heavily and smiles on their faces (and bite marks on Lucifer’s neck).

Dean straddles Lucifer's heaving chest and playfully slaps his shoulder. “How did you find it?!”

“I wanted to borrow one of your shirts while you were hunting ‘cause I was lonely so I went to your room. You left it out on your desk,” Lucifer admits breathlessly. “I stopped reading after the first page, scout’s honour.”

“Yeah, like you’re a scout.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die?”

“…”

“Pinky promise.”

“I’ll accept it.”

They hook pinkies, and then Dean rolls off of Lucifer to lay next to him on the bed. “So if you’re really not in the mood, what the hell are we gonna do all day?”

“Go for the bunker record of Game of Thrones Episodes watched consecutively.”

“Mhm,” Dean says, unconvinced. “You know Cass has that— with all of them as of last season, no breaks.”

“Are you saying you’re chickenshit, Winchester?”

Dean shoves his archangel’s shoulder. “Hell no. But there’s no way we can watch every episode before Sam gets back.”

“So he can join us when he comes back,” the devil teases him, not missing a beat. One of them has to break first, and it’s not going to be him.

Dean groans, then sits up with a roll of his eyes. “Fine. You’re on popcorn duty though.”

Lucifer wears a grin all the way to the living room, confident that he’s winning this rather pointless contest. He disappears into the kitchen to make popcorn without complaint while Dean flops onto the couch and starts the TV up.

The hunter sprawls himself out such that there’s no space for Lucifer to sit that wouldn’t be on top of him, and Lucifer is well aware of Dean’s tactic when he comes back into the room.

He takes it in stride, setting the popcorn bowl on Dean’s chest and straddling his hunter’s waist pointedly when he reaches the couch. Dean groans, regretting his decision as Lucifer’s ass rubs against his clothed cock with every shift in position.

The archangel simply continues to grin, able to keep a much finer control over his libido than Dean is.

That said, they barely make it through an episode and a half before they’re rhymically grinding against one another, neither one paying much attention to the show anymore. By the end of the second episode, Game of Thrones is all but forgotten and the popcorn bowl is on it’s side on the floor.

Lucifer’s shirt is already off and he’s tugging Dean’s over his head now too. It’s not really clear which one of them broke first, and neither one particularly cares about that anymore anyways. It’s a good thing they’re alone in the bunker (save for the Men of Letters’ surveillance bugs), because their moaning alone could wake the dead.

Once his shirt is off, Dean quickly pushes himself up and shoves Lucifer back, pinning him to the couch. Lucifer gasps as Dean’s lips find one of his nipples and latch onto it, biting and sucking until the nub is hard, red, and slick. He ruts needily up against Dean’s hips, earning a laugh from his partner.

“Knew it,” Dean grins as he pulls away, leaving Lucifer gasping and whining for more. “Liar. Tell me you’re sorry, Luce. Like I taught you.”

Lucifer whines again, though this time it’s in protest.

“None of that, you know I don’t like it when you lie.”

The blond bites his lip, sighing heavily in defeat before speaking. “I’m sorry,  _ sir _ . I was bad, so bad~” Lucifer rolls his hips up to tease Dean. “You should punish me,  _ sir.” _

Dean groans, listening to Lucifer go off-script and loving every bit of it. He grinds down in response, making them both moan. “I should, shouldn’t I? Remind you whose slut you are.”

Lucifer rolls his eyes at that remark, his voice taking on a batty tone all over again. “How can I be yours if you won’t tell anyone about us,  _ sir?” _ He taunts, lazily rolling his hips again.

Dean growls a bit in frustration, clearly Lucifer isn’t going down easy today. He gets an idea when the archangel says that however, inspiration glinting in his eyes.

“What are you thinking?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yeah,” Lucifer replies without hesitation. “But what-”

Dean cuts him off with a kiss, then slips off the couch and hoists Lucifer up by his ass, forcing the angel to wrap his arms and legs around him or fall. Lucifer chooses the former with a muffled sound of indignation.

Dean hushes him, leaving their shirts behind as he carries Lucifer to his still-under-construction Dean cave, which is both tidier and more homey than either Lucifer’s room or the living room. They leave the TV running— it isn’t a big deal.

He drops Lucifer on the couch, then starts rummaging through a cabinet where he keeps hunting gear, producing an angel blade after a moment. Lucifer goes from curious to apprehensive as he sees it.

“Dean-”

“Are you sure you trust me?” Dean asks again softly. “I want to try something, but you’ve gotta be okay with it, Luce.”

There’s only a short hesitation. “I trust you, but if that blade’s involved I want to know what I’m getting into first.”

That’s fair, Dean thinks, setting the blade on the coffee table for the moment as he goes to straddle Lucifer’s lap and kiss him deeply once more. Lucifer readily accepts it, which Dean takes as a good sign.

“I wanna tell Sam about us, babe,” he mutters against the devil’s lips. “But you know him, he’s still getting used to having you around, we should take it easy on him.”

Lucifer give a soft hum of acknowledgement. Dean moves from his lips to his neck, and Lucifer bares his skin to Dean readily. “I wanna tell the whole world you’re mine, you know I do, angel.”

Lucifer doesn’t argue, just hooking his thumbs in the belt loops on the back of Dean’s jeans and giving a soft whine. He  _ loves _ it when Dean calls him angel… more than any of the other pet names Dean has for him. For that reason, Dean uses it sparingly, so that it means more when he does use it— so it doesn’t lose its potency.

“Soon, babe. Relax,” Dean smiles against Lucifer’s neck, then grazes his teeth against his skin. “I wanna tell everyone, but I need to wait until Sam’s ready to hear it. But until then…” Dean kisses Lucifer’s jaw softly, “I wanna mark you as mine. I want to claim you, fuck you so hard you scream my name, and then I wanna carve my name right on your ass. How’s that sound, Luce?”

Lucifer moans at his words and Dean can practically feel some of his rebellious energy draining away at that thought. He gives Lucifer plenty of time to ponder it, just giving his neck attention with his lips while he awaits an answer.

Finally, he gets one. “Yeah,” Lucifer agrees breathlessly. “I think I like that idea.  _ Fuck _ …”

Dean smiles at Lucifer’s passionate agreement, moving up to kiss him properly again. “I wanna tie you up too, is that okay?” That one’s always a bit hit-or-miss. They can have some beautiful scenes with Lucifer bound and gagged, but it’s not always something Lucifer is comfortable with doing.

In fact, it’s one of the few things he’s ever had to safeword out of, and as a result they have a ban on full movement restriction.

However, today is one of the days where he’s up for it, as he indicates with a nod as he breaks their kiss. “Just upper body though, and I don’t want you behind me.”

“What about the gag?”

“Not today.”

“Warding?”

“… yeah, that’s fine.”

The hunter nods, pressing his lips to lucifer’s once more. That’s more than Lucifer is usually up for. He must  _ really _ need this. “Okay, Luce. Anything you want me to do?”

His angel thinks about it for a moment—or maybe he’s just very invested in kissing him. When he pulls away, it’s only barely enough to speak, his lips still brushing against Dean’s as he talks. “I wanna wear the collar,” he admits a bit sheepishly. “And… can you use the crop? Or the paddle?”

He waits for Dean to hum in the affirmative before continuing, “and just one more thing… I want you to pray to me again.”

“Again? But last time…”

“I know. It was intense, but I  _ need _ that today.”

Dean hesitates for a moment, eyeing Lucifer like he’s trying to judge if the archangel is serious or not. “… okay, if you’re sure.”

“I am.”

“Don’t forget your safeword again if you need me to stop. Say it.”

“Garden.”

“Again.”

“ _ Garden _ . I won’t forget again okay?”

“Nonverbal?”

“Dean—”

“I’m serious, Lucifer.”

The archangel huffs softly, then snaps twice. “If you’re gonna drill me then you tell me yours too.”

“Zeppelin, and-” Dean snaps once on each hand, right then left- “this. See? Not so hard.”

After a second, he pulls away enough to cup Lucifer’s face and look him in the eyes. “You really have to stop giving me a hard time about this Lucifer, or I can’t trust you to let me know if I go too far.”

The archangel pouts slightly, looking  _ overall _ chastised. “I know… I’m sorry, I  _ am _ taking it seriously.”

“Thank you, angel.”

Their lips meet in another kiss before Dean gets off Lucifer’s lap and off the couch. “Pull the futon out, would you?”

“The  _ futon _ ? I’d prefer the table.”

“ _ That’s _ a lie. Again. You’re terrible today, Luce.”

“Tch. Can’t we just get what we need and go to your room?”

“Why? So you can break my bed again and then make me fix it myself?”

“… damn, you got me.”

“Seriously,  _ what _ has gotten into you today?”

“Not  _ you _ .”

Dean is one snide comment away from just fucking the sass out of Lucifer, so help him God.

“Yet,” Lucifer amends when he sees the look on Dean’s face.

Dean mentally counts to five before he goes back to the cabinet, first pulling out the things he’ll need when they’re done— antiseptic, needle and floss (if he messes up), washcloth, Arnica Cream, and a few ointments, among other medical supplies they might need. Lucifer usually encourages Dean to be as rough as he feels like, because as an archangel— even an injured one— he can heal his vessel without much effort. But it’s happened before that Lucifer refuses to heal himself right away for one reason or another, meaning Dean has to be prepared  _ every _ time to treat his cuts and bruises himself.

He sets a fleece blanket on the chair in the corner of the room— along with saltines and an 8 oz bottle of cran-apple juice. Those are pretty much the only snacks Lucifer tolerates enough for Dean to convince him to eat them when he’s suffering from a drop. Hopefully he won’t need either precaution, but it’s better to be safe than sorry— especially considering that they discussed a few intense things for today.

Dean is particularly worried about the praying. Last time Dean got a bit carried away with the praise and with his imagination— the fantasies he prayed to Lucifer… enough that when he stopped, Lucifer had trouble telling reality from the prayers and quickly became disoriented and panicked. It took a lot to calm him down, so Dean knows he better be prepared in case that happens again. Hopefully he’s learned and it won’t, but he should be ready anyways.

When he finishes setting things out for afterwards, Dean goes to get the more immediate needs. Namely, lube, rope, belts, the collar, the angel blade, the riding crop, and fingerpaint to draw warding with. Then he turns back around to bring his tools over, only to nearly drop them at the sight he’s met with.

“Lucifer,” Dean practically growls, losing most of his composure as he looks at his submissive. Lucifer is…  _ clearly _ taunting him. As he is wont to do, but this is a bit excessive.

Lucifer did pull the futon bed out— and has since taken the luxury of splaying himself out on it. His jeans are removed now. He has himself propped up on one elbow to keep his laughing eyes trained on Dean as he coaxes his cock to hardness. His legs are spread, but that isn’t even the most tantalising part of him at the moment. No, because Lucifer is wearing  _ panties _ . Soft, lacy, ice blue panties trimmed in white. His cock barely fits under the lacy material, stretching it to its limit as he palms himself through it.

He  _ knows _ just how to drive Dean mad with want… and  _ this _ very nearly sends Dean’s self-control careening over the edge.

Thankfully, Dean didn’t manage to tame the devil without having an iron-clad will. It’s why Lucifer trusts him so thoroughly— he knows that whatever stunts he pulls, Dean will never let his libido take precedence over his responsibility to Lucifer as his Dom. The hunter pulls in a deep breath as Lucifer grins unabashedly at him.

“Thought you might like that.”

“You could give a guy some warning,” Dean chastises a bit weakly.

“Your face was priceless.” Lucifer stops palming himself long enough to hook a finger past his lips tauntingly while feigning innocence. “Didn’t I tell you I’ve been wearing the kind of undergarments you like every day for the past week? Shame you didn’t touch me on Tuesday, I was wearing the red lingerie.”

Dean fights a groan from building up as he moves closer. “More lies.”

“Oh, you wish, Winchester. I took pictures, I’ll send them— when you’re done with me.”

“You better.”

The twinkle of laughter stays in Lucifer’s eyes, “I’d never pass up an opportunity to show you what you’re missing, Nadeai.”

Dean smiles at the Enochian pet name Lucifer has for him, finally climbing onto the futon so he can kiss his brat of a sub.

He yanks Lucifer up, pulling the archangel onto his lap to kiss him right. Lucifer straddles him without protest, moaning softly as Dean’s tongue invades his mouth.

Dean loves this part the most… more than the begging or binding or any of the other things they play around with. He loves the tender moments they get to share between all the hunting and the pretending they aren’t madly in love. These small moments make it all so much better. They make it all worth it.

They trade slow, lazy kisses until they can’t stand having clothes between them anymore.

Dean’s shirt and jeans go first, making them both bare except for their underwear. Lucifer tries to pull his panties off and Dean swats his hand. “They stay on,” he growls, making Lucifer shiver.

It’s a monumental effort for Dean not to just skip over everything and push the panties aside to fuck Lucifer right now.

Instead he keeps a tight grip on his patience, making Lucifer melt and fall apart into a moaning mess with Dean’s kisses and touches, needing his angel to be totally relaxed before he can try tying him up.

“Shit,” Lucifer says suddenly, while Dean has his lips wrapped around one of his nipples. 

And it’s not a ‘this feels good’ shit. It’s a ‘oh crap I fucked up’ shit. Dean pulls away to give Lucifer a curious look. “What?”

“I forgot to text Sam which books I already had,” Lucifer answers, seeming to realise how ridiculous that sounds as he’s saying it.

“…  _ that’s _ what you’re thinking about right now?”

“Sorry?” At least Lucifer isn’t trying to be snarky about it. Dean can physically  _ see _ him holding back the _ ‘well if you weren’t boring me so much’ _ comment on the tip of Lucifer’s tongue.

Dean sighs. “Go ahead, text him and I’ll get the ropes ready.”

Lucifer nods quickly, reaching for his phone and making quick work of sending Sam the list. Sam replies with a ‘thumbs up’ almost immediately, and Lucifer relaxes, putting his phone back on silent and tossing it out of the way.

Dean has the rope ready when he turns back around. Lucifer decides to just be compliant about it for once, embarrassed about his interruption. Being tied up is normally a terrifying thing for him. It puts his stomach in knots and his nerves on edge, even if it’s just regular rope.

And here Dean is, even using Enochian handcuffs to stifle his powers. Lucifer is totally at his mercy… but it’s fine. He trusts Dean. He knows the human would  _ never _ use this to harm him. There’s a thrill in it, knowing that he can put himself totally at Dean’s mercy and he’ll come out just fine.

The collar goes around his neck last. Lucifer practically  _ melts _ when Dean secures the clasp. It fits on snugly, Dean ensuring that it’s not tight enough to choke him. That’s how Lucifer likes it— just a solid reminder that he belongs to Dean and because of that, Dean will protect him.

_ ‘You look gorgeous like this, Luce.’  _ Dean prays to him, and a shiver runs through Lucifer.  _ ‘Are you going to keep being good for me?’ _

Lucifer gives an involuntary moan, twisting slightly against the bonds holding him in position on the bed. They don’t budge for him, as the warding has temporarily sapped his angelic strength. “Yes Sir,” he whispers, looking trustingly up at Dean.

“Colour?”

“Green,” Lucifer breathes out.

The hunter smiles down at him, picking the crop up and making sure Lucifer sees him twirl it around before he reaches out with it, lightly pressing it to Lucifer’s cheek and trailing it down to his neck. He shivers again, his eyes glued to Dean’s hand.

Dean is amazed by how well Lucifer is doing this time. He usually struggles a bit to go down when ropes are involved, but today? He was a brat earlier, but it seems as if the second Dean got started, Lucifer has been ready and obedient for him. He wonders if there’s some other significance to it, or if it’s just because it’s been a while since they’ve had a chance to do this.

He teases his submissive with the crop, alternating tracing Lucifer’s muscles lightly with it and giving him tiny, harsh smacks with the leather tip.

And all throughout it, Dean prays to Lucifer. He tells his angel how pretty he looks, how good he’s being. He tells Lucifer what he wants to do, imagines fucking him so vividly that Lucifer can feel and see himself in Dean’s mind’s eye.

Lucifer is a mess before long, shuddering and squirming against his bonds with each smack of the crop against his inner thighs while Dean uses the fingers of his other hand to work Lucifer open, just shoving the panties aside enough to get to his entrance.

Dean calls yellow once because Lucifer isn’t talking enough, and he’s worried he’s overwhelmed the angel. Lucifer assures him that isn’t the case— he’s just so busy enjoying himself he’s forgetting to sass— and promises to speak up more. After trading a few reassuring and calming kisses, they continue.

There’s a beautiful, pleasure-ruined angel underneath him when Dean finally decides he’s done. They’ve both been more careful this time— Dean making sure not to overdo it with the praying, and Lucifer being sure to communicate better about what feels good and what’s too much. It’s easily one of the best scenes they’ve had in a long while— and not  _ just _ because they haven’t been together in a while.

When Dean can finally push into his angel, Lucifer is loose and wet and pliant, his greedy hole practically sucking Dean in. 

“Give me a colour, babe.”

“Green. So, so green.”

They let out matching moans as Dean settles himself into his lover, feeling the familiar rush of pride in knowing he’s the only person ever to have Lucifer this way.

They’re both fairly worked up, so it doesn’t take long for Dean to find his climax inside the angel. He warns Lucifer that he’s close, prays to him that he wants to cum inside him— (to which Lucifer screams a resounding “ _ Yes!” _ )

Dean grabs the blade from the nightstand and quickly cuts through the ropes holding Lucifer down, and uses the quick release on the handcuffs to totally unbind Lucifer. Then he grabs his angel by the collar, dragging him up for a dominating kiss as he continues to fuck into him, chasing his release. He supports Lucifer by his ass, using the hand still holding his blade to do so, letting Lucifer feel the cool metal against his heated flesh.

There’s a risk of cutting his own dick, but… he’s pretty careful.

He prays to his angel, his beautiful little sub, telling Lucifer he wants him to let loose, to blow the lights out if he needs to.

Lucifer does. The tightening of his collar, the desperate kiss, the cold metal against his flesh- the prayer and the sudden return of his grace- it's all too much and he doesn’t even manage to warn Dean before he climaxes hard, painting their chests with white, shuddering and clenching around Dean and failing to restrain his grace at  _ all. _ The lights in the room flicker and pop, but it isn’t dark because Lucifer suddenly glows, the shadows of his wings showing how they’re stretched out and arched in sync with his body.

Dean cums with him, shouting against his angel’s lips as they hold each other and pant between kisses, Dean’s arms strong and steady while Lucifer’s are clingy and trembling.

The room is dark then, until the backup lighting comes on and the room glows a deep, pulsing red.

“How are you feeling?” Dean finally asks once he’s come out of his haze of pleasure, laying Lucifer down gently and kissing his shoulder and collarbone while he unwinds the cut ropes from his body. He doesn’t pull out yet, knowing that Lucifer likes to feel full and hates being empty during the moments following good sex.

Lucifer lets out a rather pathetic whine in answer, just pulling Dean a little closer to him.

“Words, Luce,” Dean chastises good-naturedly. “I don’t speak tired-out-sub.”

That earns him a light slap on the shoulder, but then he does get a verbal answer. “I feel good, Dom… really good.”

Noticing the slightly slower quality to his speech, Dean pulls up a bit to look at Lucifer’s face, running a thumb over his cheek as he looks him over. “Sleepy, babe?”

“A little tired,” Lucifer admits, no longer bothering to give his Dom anything but the truth. “I don’t need to sleep though.”

Dean gets the last of the ropes off of Lucifer, tossing them over the side of the bed before he pulls his angel back up and into his lap, then moves so he can lean back against the headboard. Lucifer whimpers a little as Dean shifts within him, but relaxes when he can straddle Dean’s lap and lay against his chest, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder.

“I know,” Dean says gently, running his fingers over the tired submissive’s back. “How about needing a break before we continue?”

It seems to take Lucifer a second to realise what Dean means. “… yeah, a break would be nice,” he nods against his Dom’s shoulder, nuzzling against the pleasant smell of  _ Dean. _

“Then we’ll take a break.” Dean rubs circles into Lucifer’s back, whispering soft praises to him as he reaches over to get the bottle of juice he left out, taking a gulp before handing it to Lucifer.

“Don’t need it,” Lucifer turns his face away, into Dean’s chest.

Dean sighs, pulling Lucifer back enough to look at him. “No, you don’t need it to survive. I know that. But it’s good for you, and it helps you keep your stomach settled. I want you to drink half of this bottle and eat a serving of crackers before we continue. Understood?”

Lucifer sighs softly, but nods. “Yes, Dom.”

“Good sub,” Dean kisses his cheek before pressing the bottle into one of Lucifer’s hands and watching him dutifully drink half of it like he was told to.

He’s always liked a challenge when it comes to his sexual partners, and Lucifer consistently fills that need. He’s difficult, he doesn’t like to be told what to do— not unless he’s given a sound reason for doing it. But when Dean can get him like this- worn out and compliant- all the difficulty is well worth it.

Dean finishes the rest of the bottle, needing the sugar after all that physical exertion. He coaxes the angel off of him before handing him the saltines, convincing Lucifer to lay down on his belly so Dean can clean him up before their next activity.

Lucifer’s panties are a ruined mess at this point, so Dean pulls them off with a regretful sigh, tossing them to the floor with the ropes. He takes the washcloth to himself and Lucifer, enjoying the comfortable silence as he cleans the mess off of them and Lucifer eats his six saltines.

“Still tired?” Dean asks once he’s done, deciding that Lucifer doesn’t have any bruises or scratches that are severe enough to need attention immediately. He knows Lucifer likes the ache of the small injuries, so he tends to indulge the little masochist until their scenes are over.

“Just give me ten more minutes,” Lucifer requests softly, finishing his last cracker and rolling onto his back so he can see and take Dean’s hand. “Cuddle with me?”

And how can Dean say no to a request like that? He smiles down at the needy blond, giving a mock-put-upon-sigh. “Well, I suppose I _can.”_ He lays down by his angel, nosing warmly into his neck.

Lucifer purrs happily, curling into his chest and listening to the human’s heartbeat. He could almost fall asleep like this, but he isn’t that tired  _ yet. _

Dean readily wraps an arm around him, pleased by how trusting and comfortable Lucifer is with him. 

Ever since Chuck was here and Dean stood up to Him on Lucifer’s behalf, the archangel has been more open to him— more ready to listen and comply with him as opposed to Sam, or Mary, or Castiel, or Crowley. Dean didn’t even notice it himself; Sam pointed the attitude change out and they worked together to find a fair deal for Dean to propose to the former Devil.

Dean still wonders if Lucifer would have agreed, had anyone else asked him to join them at the bunker in spite of God’s ding-dong-ditch. Lucifer liked having somewhere safe to stay, where he could recover from the damage Amara did to him in the final fight. He liked that Sam and Dean agreed to start over and give him a clean slate— ignoring his devilish reputation. And he even liked doing  _ his _ part of the deal— helping them kill monsters.

As Dad used to say, a gun is safe as long as it’s pointed in the right direction.

Dean’s reminiscing is interrupted when Lucifer stirs, stretching himself out a little and smiling up at Dean. “Okay, I think I’m good now. Colour?”

Dean smiles at his cheeky archangel. “Green,” he answers, kissing his sub’s nose before pulling himself up. “You?”

“Green, yeah,” Lucifer replies softly, rolling back onto his belly and really stretching out, making his feet hang over the edge of the bed. “Are you going to cut your full name?”

“I was thinking about it,” Dean admits. “But I think just my initials will do for now. Too many letters and you won’t be able to walk or sit anytime soon.”

“Okay,” Lucifer nods, smiling a little. “Like your car and the library table; I like it.”

Dean smiles back, glad that Lucifer approves. “And my shotgun.” He gets the rubbing alcohol and a swab first, deciding where he wants to carve his initials and giving it a proper wipe-down.

Lucifer stays patient and still under his hands, his head pillowed sideways on his folded arms. He’s already aroused again, if his erection is any indication.

Once Lucifer’s asscheek is sufficiently clean and Dean is confident his angel is relaxed, he reaches for the blade again and rests the flat of it against his skin, sanitising the edge with another cotton swab. “Give me a colour, Lucifer.”

The angel takes a second to think about it. “Green. I’m good.”

Dean nods, taking his hesitancy to mean ‘go ahead but with caution.’ He makes sure the angel blade is really clean, kissing Lucifer’s lower back and helping his angel relax further.

“Shouldn’t you restrain me?” Lucifer asks curiously.

Dean shakes his head. “Not for this. I don’t want you to be tied up in case you panic. If you need to leave, I want you to be free to move or fly.”

Lucifer nods, relaxing at the explanation. “Okay… makes sense.” He hesitates for a moment while Dean continues to kiss and massage his back, relaxing him. “Thank you, Sir.”

Dean smiles against the small of his back as he hears that, taking Lucifer’s hand to squeeze it gently. “You’re being so good for me, letting me claim you like this, babe. You don’t need to thank me, I just want you to feel safe.”

“I do feel safe— I always do around you,” the archangel purrs happily, nuzzling his face into the sheets.

That puts a warm and squishy feeling in his chest.

“Okay, angel. I’m going to start if you’re ready,” Dean warns him, a sharpie cap between his teeth as he writes his initials where he wants to carve them into Lucifer so he won’t mess it up. “I’m just gonna ask one more time, colour?”

Lucifer squirms a little at the feeling of the marker on his ass, winding his hands tightly in the sheets to help keep himself still. “Green, Sir.”

“You’ll tell me if that changes?”

“Yes, Hunter,” Lucifer promises, releasing a calming breath. He likes pain, but angel blades still make him nervous.

This first cut is shallow, drawing a hiss from Lucifer. 

Dean pauses, watching as the wound glows faintly and then fades, blood beading along the thin line. “Do you want me to warn you for each one?” He thinks to ask, hesitating a little at the sight of grace.

“Yes,” Lucifer answers softly, nodding against the pillow his face is buried in. “Please, Dean.”

He rarely uses Dean’s actual name during their scenes, so that’s how he knows Lucifer is serious. “Okay, whatever helps… do you need a break?”

“I’m fine,” Lucifer reassures him. “Green, still. Let you know if it changes.”

Dean hums in affirmation, gently massaging lucifer’s left asscheek. “Okay, I’m gonna do the next one.” He presses the tip to the edge of the sharpie line, letting Lucifer feel it before he pulls the blade across and withdraws, letting the grace glow and fade again. Another shallow cut, not bleeding much. 

The first one doesn’t get any worse, just glistening with a few beads of blood along the thin incision. He gives Lucifer a break while he cleans them up anyways, soothing Lucifer with praises as his angel hisses at the alcohol cleaning the cuts out before Dean dabs some antiseptic ointment onto them.

“Ready for the next one, babe?”

“How many more?” Lucifer asks softly, trying to relax while also keeping a death grip on his pillow.

Dean counts quickly. “Six more, Luce. Want me to count them for you?”

Lucifer just nods to his question. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“I’m gonna do these next two quickly, babe. And then I’ll clean them out right away, okay?”

Lucifer nods, and Dean does the last two lined for the first letter, finishing out the D. Lucifer whimpers slightly as his grace hums and he prevents himself from healing it again, shuddering slightly.

“That was six and five, you have more.”

The corners of Dean’s lips pull up a bit as Lucifer grinds down a little against the sheets, making it clear that at least some of Lucifer’s tenseness is coming from his growing arousal. Dean will make sure to take care of his erection once they’re done, assuming Lucifer doesn’t cum from the pain alone.

The bottom of the D ended up a bit deeper than the other cuts, so Dean had to secured a couple butterfly stitches over it, but for the most part the cuts aren’t bleeding much, which is a good thing.

“Do you want these last four fast, or one at a time?” He asks Lucifer, massaging his thigh. “You’re being so good, Lucifer. Such a good angel.  _ My _ angel.”

That earns another shiver from his lover. “Fast,” he says eventually. “Then want you to fuck me again.”

Dean laughs softly at his needy sub, dipping down to kiss his inner thigh. “I don’t think that would be good for your cuts, babe. I was thinking I might reward you by sucking you off, though. How does that sound?”

Lucifer whimpers a little, nodding into the pillow. Dean never lets him have his mouth… and on the few occasions he does, he’s  _ so _ good. “Please sir, want that really bad…”

“Then you’ll get that, Luce. You earned it, being so good for me today.” Dean smiles, kissing his opposite thigh before pulling up again. “Okay, four more, quick and done with, then that’s it. Brace yourself, babe.”

Lucifer does, tucking his head tightly down. Dean makes good on his promise, quickly flicking the blade four times to make the W. Lucifer whimpers softly and ruts against the bed when it’s done, whining from the pain-pleasure until Dean starts cleaning it out. Then he stills, hissing quietly at the alcohol and relaxing when the ointment goes over each cut.

Dean gives Lucifer another long break, getting him to drink some Gatorade while Dean pulls his jeans back on. He bribes Lucifer into eating a few saltines as well by promising Lucifer can have him on his knees for this.

He stalls a little, pampering his angel and treating all his little bruises and scratches with arnica and neosporin. He double- and triple-checks the cuts on Lucifer’s ass, worried that he did something wrong until he’s sure that the ointment is doing its job to help the cuts seal up and keep them from bleeding too badly.

Lucifer won’t be able to wear pants for the rest of the day at least— which they’re both fine with, seeing as Sam should be out until at least tomorrow. Probably longer.

He can’t stall forever though, not when Lucifer is eager and aroused and impatient for the rare and coveted reward Dean promised him.

So before long Dean ends up on his knees in front of a standing Lucifer; giving his lover a blowjob like his life depends on it.

He’s good at this— he knows he is. And he knows Lucifer loves it, even though Dean doesn’t let him buck his hips or grab his hair. He only puts it off because he knows the smug look Lucifer is going to give him after, and Lucifer is  _ insufferable  _ when he’s smug about something.

At least this time, he has a plan to keep the archangel from getting too smug.

And sure enough, soon Dean is tasting Lucifer’s spend on his tongue, which he holds in his mouth patiently, knowing he can find a better use for it.

He yanks Lucifer to his knees as well when he’s finished, dragging him in by the hair for a rough kiss, letting Lucifer taste and lick up his own cum from Dean’s tongue and lips. Lucifer does so eagerly, moaning when he realises what Dean is doing and he swallows down his own cum like his Dom wants him to.

When they pull apart, Lucifer whines slightly, licking cum from the corner of Dean’s lips.

Dean smiles smugly at him, confident he prevented Lucifer from being even more of a brat than usual with this tactic. Lucifer just sighs softly, but looks sated and happy despite his loss of bragging rights.

 

 

Not long after, they’re all cleaned up and Lucifer is snug in one of Dean’s shirts and nothing else, and Dean decided to stick with the commando only-jeans look while they return to watching Game of thrones.

They’re both actually focused on it this time around, Lucifer with his head pillowed on Dean’s lap, and Dean with a hand resting on the small of Lucifer’s back, rubbing gentle circles into his back.

 

* * *

Sam had to make a run back home when he realised he forgot the gift he planned to give Eileen for a belated Valentine’s Day. It should be in the Library, and he might as well drop off the book he did snag for Lucifer while he’s here.

He hears Game of Thrones playing in the Rex room and figures Lucifer or Dean is there. Since it’s close, he’ll just drop the book off with whoever is there and run back out so he won’t be more late than he’s already going to be.

Turns out, the answer is both of them. He gets a surprise eyeful of Lucifer’s naked butt and Dean’s bare chest and he can’t quite tear his eyes away purely out of shock.

Sam takes in the scene in the room, witnessing something he never expected nor wanted to see.

“… Dean, are those your initials on Lucifer’s ass?”

Dean jumps when he hears Sam’s voice, not having noticed his brother come in. “Fuck- Sammy, I can explain-”

“Yes,” Lucifer replies smugly.

Dean swears colourfully.


End file.
